


Cute Bram Greenfeld

by I_am_a_Ruin



Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Bram's pov, Canon - Book, Jealousy, M/M, basically the book, but from Bram's side, lots of fluff, some minor angst, there's not much too this actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 20:56:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14221641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_am_a_Ruin/pseuds/I_am_a_Ruin
Summary: little snippets of what's going on with Bram in the book.“I think you should know that even though I didn’t realize it was you, I still called you Cute Bram Greenfeld.”





	Cute Bram Greenfeld

**Author's Note:**

> Eight pages. This is the longest one chapter thing I've ever written.  
> Any and all emails or other dialogue/scenes that you may recognize are from the book. Full credit to Becky Albertalli.

He sat there, the beat and soothing voice of Elliot Smith filling his ears, wrapping around his room. It killed him to listen to this heartbreaking, raw song and think of it is as something his Jacques valued so much he put it in his email address. The line “I’m never gonna know you now, but I’m gonna love you anyhow” was so ironic, he had to wonder if it was intentional. But of course, the email address was made before Jacques could have known they were going to be pitifully crushing on each other. 

Everything about this song made him feel completely unworthy of having Jacques in his life. He had felt that way long before, and it was as though the song finally expressed those words he couldn’t out loud. He can understand how Jacques could be so obsessed with this man. He emailed Jacques almost right after the last line is sung, hitting replay as he begun typing.

The subject was almost too easy for him to come up with, considering the homework he was uncharacteristically putting off. Jacques was changing him. He couldn’t get the boy out of his head long enough to work on homework, despite how important grades were to him. Jacques made him braver, too. Before Jacques, he could hardly admit to himself what he was. Guilt was ninety percent what choked him around cute boys, like he was doing something wrong for liking them. Growing up in a religious family didn’t help. Jacques was helping him feel comfortable in his own skin, his own affections, for the first time. He was actually able to speak to Simon Spier today, which was sort of a miracle in of itself. Those boy’s eyes could charm a snake. 

Shame at thinking about another boy while messaging Jacques made him wince. He had this problem, and it was only getting worse with how desperately he really wanted Jacques to be Simon. It wasn’t fair to Jacques. Part of him wanted to apologize immediately for it, even though that was ridiculous. He wasn’t dating Jacques and it wasn’t like he could admit to liking Simon Spier to this person, no matter how anonymous. It would probably just be confusing for Jacques anyway, so he refocused on his email.

_ “...writing an essay for English class. I’d rather write to you. I’m in my room, and I have window right next to my desk. It’s so sunny out, it looks like it should be really warm outside. I feel like I’m dreaming. _

_ So Jacques, I have to confess that I’ve been curious about your email address for a long time. I finally broke down and consulted the Mighty Googler, and now I see that it’s a lyric from an Elliot Smith song. I’ve actually heard of him, but I had never heard his music, so I downloaded Waltz #2.” _

Bram paused, wondering what Jacques would think when he read that. If it were Bram, he would be panicking. Full blown can’t-breathe-too-hot-need-air-pronto attack. But Jacques… Jacques was brave and badass, he would be okay. Besides, Bram got the feeling Jacques really wanted to know Bram better, so surely he wouldn't mind Bram doing the exact same thing. Bram, after all, had clues in his address too. 

He sat back, thinking about what to say next as the words of the song enveloped him again. He felt weirdly warm and happy listening to such a sad song. He just kept picturing coming home to a perfectly sappy domestic setting with Jacques listening to this song, a half-eaten pack of Oreos next to him, and a journal or something in front of him. A smile broke out on his face at the thought and he leaned back towards him computer, the words spilling out of him. 

Even though the song doesn’t strike him as a very Jacques-esque song he almost understood the sadness of it being perfectly Jacques. After all, he’s holding on to this huge thing that he can’t trust anyone else with. That does things to a person, Bram knows only too well. And it’s that thought that led to him sharing with Jacques about his dad and Hotel Hanukkah. 

It was only fair, anyways, to share something with Jacques after holding a magnifying glass to Jacques’ email. It felt surprisingly good to share, even if it was absolutely nerve-wracking. He wondered if this clue of Bram looking into Jacques email address would tip Jacques off to the clues in his own. A part of him selfishly hoped not. He was not ready. His email address would reveal a lot more than a favorite song. As good as it feels and as happy as Jacques made him, he just couldn’t say it out loud yet. He needed to hold this close to his chest a little longer. He needed this happy thing in his life to stay exactly the way it was a little longer.

*****

He was now almost certain that Jacques was Simon. There was just a lot of things that made so much sense if Jacques was Simon. Of course, a lot of it was Bram wanting it to be Simon  _ desperately.  _ He had wanted Simon to be gay since freshman year when everything turned upside down around him and his moon-silver eyes. 

Bram could fill a thesaurus section for the word grey with descriptions of Simon’s eyes which was so nauseatingly cheesy it hurt. 

However, Simon Spier was in Mr. Wise’s English class. Simon Spier was always listening to music and sometimes Bram swore he could hear the melody of Between the Bars playing through the speakers of Simon’s earbuds if he listened hard enough. Oreos are an almost constant in Simon’s lunch. And he’s best friends with two very pretty girls and Bram has never seen him show any interest in them. In fact, he seemed a little annoyed by Nick’s super obvious crush on Abby. Of course, it could have been jealousy, but Bram really doubted it.

He scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to pull his thoughts together. Okay, so if Jacques was Simon, which friend would he have told? Leah is the obvious choice. 

They had been friends since Bram had met them freshman year. At school the next day, it takes everything in him to not demand to know if Simon told Leah anything important. That would be cruel anyways and there was no way Leah would tell him if Simon had. Lead was too good a person. 

Simon and Martin had been spending a lot of time together which would make Bram jealous if he had a remote right to be and if Martin wasn’t so obnoxiously straight. He walked in his door pondering if maybe Martin was bisexual, because straight shouldn’t be a default, but was struck by the sight of his father and mother sat on the couch together. 

He ended up at his desk, head spinning and stupidly nauseated. He resented how quickly he got sick to his stomach most of the time, but his thoughts were really too focused on his stepmom being  _ pregnant.  _ He doesn’t even realize he’s messaging Simon first about his shellshock until he had already hit send. It’s crazy how easy it was to bring his troubles to someone he had never even met. 

It took Si-  _ Jacques ( _ he had to keep reminding himself that all his evidence was circumstantial) a few hours to email back, but his reply instantly calmed Bram down. He had called Garrett later when he could breathe again and didn’t feel like puking, and that helped quite a bit too. 

Of course, it only took less than an hour the next morning for Jacques to ruin it. Of freaking course. 

“ _ I think we should meet in person. _

_ Love,  _

_ Jacques.” _

How was Bram supposed to respond to that?

*****

Jacques emailed him on Christmas and Bram almost cried for him out of the sheer amount of sympathy pooling in his gut.  He couldn’t even imagine how he could survive being outed like that. He wished he could do anything but send a lame email that couldn’t fix anything. Jacques was the one who was weirdly good at cheer-ups. Bram was… he was too emotional, he couldn’t be helpful. He felt so bad he very nearly agreed to giving Jacques his phone number. 

It was almost awful telling Jacques no, but he just… he  _ couldn’t.  _

Nick and Garrett stopped by, as per usual. Nick, however, looked the opposite of his usual Christmas cheery-self. No one Bram had ever met got more excited about Christmas, not even his little cousins. However, Nick was so forlorn, like someone had just broke the news to him that Santa wasn’t real. 

Garrett finally badgered it out of him (Garrett was very good at getting people to talk. There was absolutely no moping or secret-keeping with Garrett. It was sort of insane that Garrett didn’t already know about the gay thing.) 

“Someone posted on Tumblr that…” Nick started, sighing, fumbling with his phone. “I actually feel super uncomfortable telling you guys. Like… Like, I’m just as bad as the guy that posted it.” 

Garrett and Bram shared looks of confusion. Bram took a venture cautiously, “Was someone outed?”

“Yeah.” Nick huffed, not even questioning Bram’s strangely accurate guess. He rubbed his eyes, hard, and shook his head. “ _ Simon.  _ And I mean… obviously, I’m not taking some random asshole’s word for it but… it sort of makes sense. He’s totally shut us out, and I don’t even blame him. I just don’t know what to do.”

That was a nightmare. Bram couldn’t even begin to guess how that had happened, but he could try to help Nick and by extension, Simon. 

“You don’t. There’s not anything you  _ can _ do.” Bram shrugged, “You wait until he’s ready to confirm or deny and just… be there. Don’t push him, he’ll talk when he feels up to it.” 

“When did you get to be so wise, Greenfeld?’ It was teasing, but lacking any actual humor. Nick just sounded drained. 

Bram’s mom’s famous chocolate chip cookies helped. It was the only time all three of them ever were at Bram’s house together, so she always took advantage of the situation. She was pretty cool in the sense of she was an  _ actual  _ soccer mom. There wasn’t a thing about soccer the three of them knew that she didn’t. That was really convenient because it meant that they could discuss plays and she could actually follow the conversation. Bram was lucky. 

She did make a comment about them not spending the night, though, and Bram glared at her for it. They had a silent conversation through raised eyebrows and intense stares; he could tell she thought he told his friends already. 

Garrett stared at them like he was attempting to read their minds and Nick’s jaw hung open just a little, looking between the two. Bram ignored their expressions and dragged his feet to his room, knowing they would ask questions he wasn’t sure he was ready to answer.

“What was that about?”

“Yeah, Greenfeld. We always spend the night on Christmas. We have to have an all-nighter video game marathon!” Garrett whined, but he didn’t actually sound that upset. He was weirdly quiet. If Bram hadn’t been too busy internally panicking, he might have wondered about it. He was, instead, seriously considering the fact that he may lose his best friend if he told him the truth. However, there was no way Garrett was letting this go. And for the life of him, he couldn’t think of a good excuse.

“Can you guys... sit down?” Bram asked, voice trembling hard. He was almost ninety five percent certain he was shaking too.

“What’s up, Bram?” At least Garrett was taking it seriously. He only ever used first names if the situation was important. It was just a Garrett-esque quirk no one questioned.

The words were sticking in his mouth. He thought it’d be easier to say after telling his mom and dad but… they were just clinging to his tongue for dear life. They felt alien, like trying to speak another language you hardly knew. He couldn’t do this. It was just two words but it was like they had built a tower around him and he’d lost the key. He was definitely going to be sick. Instead of vomiting though, the words fell out of his mouth gracelessly. “I’m gay.”

Garrett’s face wasn’t mirroring his mental expectations. He was grinning as though Bram had just handed him a wad of cash. “Dude.  _ Finally.”  _

Nick blinked at Bram and then whirled on Garrett. “You  _ knew?”  _ He stole the words right out of Bram’s mouth.

“Uh,  _ duh.  _ Come on, Bram. Dude, you know you’re my best friend, but you have the worst poker face. You get all doe-eyed around Sp-” And then Garrett’s face turned pink and he started choking, like he was trying to cover a big slip-up, which he was.

Nick squinted at Bram’s blushing, downward glance and he knew he was screwed before Eisner opened his mouth. 

“So I guess you really want the whole Tumblr thing to be true then.” 

Even though he supposed these were positive reactions, his stomach felt weird, tingly, and he thought maybe he was going to pass out or something. 

“Eisner, you better be chill, or I’ll find a way to get you kicked off the team.” Garrett sounded so serious, Bram almost fell over. Nick went all ashen-faced.

“I-I… I’m totally cool with it. Really, Bram. Like, even if he wasn’t threatening me. Seriously, date boys. It’s fine. There’s nothing-”

“Stop rambling.” Bram smiled softly, rolling his eyes. “I know.” 

“Well, I’m glad you finally told me, Greenfeld.” Garrett grinned. “Thank you for trusting us.”

And then Bram instantly felt awful about receiving such positive feedback, when Simon had just been outed to the entire school by some douchecanoe. A school with a less than respectful environment towards the LGBT community. 

Poor Simon.

*****

Seeing Simon in English the first day back almost broke Bram’s heart. The kid looked like he was trying desperately to make himself smaller so that no one will notice him, which they do. Bram wanted to break something and ended up snapping a pencil, earning himself weird looks from the rest of the class.

Simon seemed to have cheered up by lunch though until Eisner pissed Leah off and Simon just looked like he was going to put his fist through something. Leah walked away and Garrett turned to Bram, mentally trying to communicate through telepathy and hardcore elbowing that he wanted to know if he should go after her. Bram bit his lip, debating, even though he could really care less. 

“If you like her, just ask her out,” the angry word flooded Bram’s ears and for a second he thought Simon was talking to Garrett. But then he made eye contact with Simon, face heating up because Simon turned him into an idiot, and realized very quickly Simon thought he liked Leah.

Simon thought Bram liked Leah. Simon why-is-straight-the-default freaking Spier thought he liked Leah. It hit him that Simon had no idea he was Blue and Bram barely made it to the bathroom before he’s sobbing like a baby. He wasn’t even sure what came over him, but suddenly everything has turned on its head. This was exactly why he was so afraid to let Simon know who Blue was, because Simon would be disappointed. And he knew it. 

He can hardly breath as he cried himself out, trying to stay quiet because there are other boys in the bathroom and he can’t bear to be called a sissy on top of everything else today.

****

After soccer, he caught Simon crying in his car and Bram just froze. It’s that really ugly kind of crying that is meant just for when your alone or your entire world is such a mess that it doesn’t even matter if anyone is judging you because it can’t get worse. Bram half wanted to just get into the boy’s car and pull him into his arms until everything made sense again or to stop staring because it’s so something so private and none of his business to see. He can’t move though, his feet have merged with the concrete. 

Simon just looked so destroyed. Bram wanted to hit himself for thinking things were improving for the blond-haired boy. This was exactly the kind of boy Bram could picture listening to those Elliott Smith songs and it kind of smacks him in the face. Elliott Smith is for these moments when Simon isn’t  _ okay.  _ When he isn’t the dorky, sunshine-y, sarcastic kid Bram knows so well. When he is the kid messaging Bram to make him feel better when all the lights have been shut off before he got to the switch. He pulled out his phone, ready to email Simon all kinds of comfort, but he can’t think of a single thing that won’t make it worse one way or another. 

Simon ended up being the first to email him, talking about snow of all things. However, the last line strikes a cord in him. 

“ _ Do you ever get so angry you start crying? And do you ever feel guilty for getting angry? Tell me I’m not weird.”  _

It took Bram almost three hours to respond even though he saw the email pretty much right away. And he just doesn’t know what to say. He tried suggesting Oreos. And suddenly, he can’t keep everything to himself. He has to let Simon know that he knows. He played it down, but he had no doubts about it. And the fact that Simon guessed wrong (which stung very very badly, by the way.) probably only made Simon’s day worse.

He sat there for a good while, fingers and mind warring. He was so tempted to just tell him but… he couldn’t. Simon “Jacques” Spier made him brave, but apparently not brave enough to reveal a superhero identity that was quickly feeling like a suffocating plastic-bag-sort-of mask. 

*****

They don’t talk much after that. Bram tried to communicate more in person, even leaving a t-shirt for Simon (half-praying to God that Simon would come to his locker early), to just make sure Simon was still okay. He wasn’t very good at it because when he told Simon he froze up around cute boys, there was really only one in particular. He did try though. 

He waited for Simon to use the number he had attached to the inside of the shirt. He basically just spent the whole rest of the week staring at his phone and becoming jittery whenever an unknown number popped up.

He even went to every performance of the play (and holy hell did Simon look so good with makeup. Bram couldn’t look at him but he couldn’t look away either. He was pretty sure his skin was on fire and everyone in the audience knew he was so gay for one Simon Spier.)

He didn’t check his email after the last performance because he had no reason to. Garrett kept him company most of the evening, the two playing video games to blow off steam because Bram can’t get the image of Simon and Cal Price talking so easily after the show. 

Garrett left at around seven forty-five and Bram found himself staring at his laptop’s home screen picture of Cristiano Ronaldo and trying to decide if he should email Simon. Maybe he could tell he that he enjoyed the show? Something is haunting him though. 

Simon never messaged him through his number. In fact, they hadn’t been in touch since and Bram had a sinking feeling in his gut that Simon recognized his number and just… changed his mind. And if Simon didn’t want Bram, no matter how badly it killed him, Bram would leave him alone. He just wanted Simon to be happy, he would do whatever Simon wanted because all Simon had to do was flash his silver eyes or say something cute like referring to tryouts as “auditions” and Bram was like a moth to a flame. He was pathetically hopeless, honestly. 

He tried to get involved in the video game, but couldn’t focus. He gave up and powered down his console, deciding to check his email before going to bed. He did it ritually, despite the stretch of silence. He still hoped. He was so used to nothing coming up, he almost didn’t notice the unread email in his inbox. 

_ “DATE: Jan. 25 at 9:27 AM _

_ SUBJECT: Us.” _

Bram heart was pounding in his throat and it became increasingly clear as he read, Simon had no idea who Bram was. In fact, he might not have even found the number. It took him a moment to think clearly after reading the email, grinning like a doofus at Simon’s line about wanting to kiss his face off. The concept of Simon Spier wanting to kiss him,  _ Abraham Greenfeld,  _ struck him momentarily dumb. However, the sight of eight forty-two in the corner of Bram’s screen snapped him out of it. 

The carnival closed at nine.

He drove uncharacteristically reckless, the ten minute drive taking him half the time. He sprints through the mostly dead parking lot to the ticket booth, the lady there not even caring about how close he was cutting it because he was basically wasting his money in her opinion and there was no way she was protesting that. He hunted through the rides that were one by one being shut down as the few stragglers slowly make their way out of the park. 

Even though he didn’t want to, he checked the Tilt-A-Whirl and it’s sort of just his luck, honestly, that he saw Simon being buckled in. He isn’t huge on swearing, but colorful words were definitely flooding his mind at the sight. He took a steadying breath and haggled the employee into letting him on the ride. The poor guy is clearly irritated, but Bram couldn’t care less in that moment. He has to make sure Simon Spier knows who he is.

His legs almost gave out as he approached Simon’s metal pod and he wasn’t convinced he was actually breathing. Simon’s eyes were closed and he looked so tired and just absolutely crushed that Bram once more berated himself for not seeing the email sooner. Simon had to have been waiting all night for this, hope slowly fading. That weary expression was Bram’s fault; he just hoped he could fix it.

“Can I sit here?” The words were out of his mouth before he decided to ask, already sitting down next to Simon. The blond generously loosens the seatbelt for him, smiling. Bram knew he hadn’t connected the dots just from that smile. He ventured further with a shaky, “I like your shirt.”

He was not sure if the unsteadiness of his voice was in anticipation for the ride or that he was finally telling Simon who he was. That he was Blue.

‘I’m Blue, Simon. Come on, come on. Just get it.’

“Thanks. It’s Elliott Smith.” Simon’s smiling a little more, but he still doesn’t get it and Bram wanted to shake him. Was it really so inconceivable that Bram could be Blue, could be someone Simon liked?

Straight white should not be the default. Simon. Come on.

“I know.” He managed and Simon’s eyes were alien saucers in his sockets. He almost expected to be tackled in a kiss then and there. He wasn’t, though, which he was shockingly grateful for.

“It’s you.” 

The words were barely out of Simon’s mouth before the ride came to life and Bram, hardly managing to respond with, “I know I’m late,” as he left his stomach on the ground. Simon, wonderful considerate Simon, was trying to keep the pod as still as possible but every force of nature had it out against Bram. He willed himself to keep the contents of his dinner down because puking was not the first impression of sorts he wanted to make.

That would be unbearable.

He was apologizing as soon as the ride came to a stop, struggling to even get out the one syllable word, eyes staying firmly shut. 

There’s a short conversation before Simon helped him out of the ride and to the curb (every place of contact tingling slightly, still overshadowed by his churning stomach.”

He tried to explain, struggling due to the very slowly fading nausea and Simon’s illegally cute face. And hair. And clothes. And the makeup remnants. And e _ verything.  _

He all but short-circuited when Simon finally said, “I want to hold your hand.” The words are so soft, shy, gentle as they hang heavy in the air, quiet but endearingly eager.

Bram couldn’t fight the small smile that lit up his face as he responded with, “So hold it.”

And then Simon Spier’s hand was enveloped in his and Bram kept glancing between it, Simon’s face, and the ground. 

“I’m an idiot.” Simon spoke up after a few moments and it was the only thing that concluded for Bram that he would not combust from holding such a cute boy’s hand because up until that point it seemed pretty inevitable.

Bram searched Simon’s smoky grey-moon eyes for an explanation, unable to keep from correcting him all the same with a gentle, “No, you’re not.”

Simon shook his head, messy curls bouncing just slightly. “I am though. But, I think you should know-” and then Simon’s face is this total scarlet that Bram desperately wanted to kiss as he watches the hue fade. “I think you should know that even though I didn’t realize it was you, I still called you Cute Bram Greenfeld.” 

The words were out in a rush, and Simon didn’t even seem to be stopping.

“I… I liked your hands, and how you’re reserved, but I thought you were probably really funny and… when you laugh…” Simon wasn’t even speaking in sentences anymore, just awkwardly jumbled words that didn’t piece together properly. 

Bram squeezed Simon’s hand, face growing hot with pleased-embarrassment. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“Yeah, I do. ‘Cuz you told me all the things you liked about me when you knew it was me.” Simon elaborated.

Neither responded, and neither felt the need to. The silence was so comfortable, and at some point they would have to stand up and go home. At some point they would have to reenter the real world, but in that moment they were in their own place where the only thing that  mattered was the weight of the hand in their own.

**Author's Note:**

> comments/kudos very much appreciated :)
> 
> Hey, so this is a note specifically for the person that stole this work and posted on Wattpad. Look, if you had asked and gave me credit, I wouldn't mind at all. I'm honored that people like what I write, but it's really disrespectful to steal someone's work. I get that people see fanfiction as lesser or whatever, but I put a lot of hardwork into this and I post credit to the author for any portions of her story that I borrow from. (And for the record if Becky Albertalli ever posted on here and told me to take it down, I would because I respect her so much). So please, to everyone who reads this, always ask someone if you want to share their work. You have no idea how much time goes into these kinds of things. And you can get into serious legal trouble over it for copyright infringment. Yes, that DOES apply to works of fanfic. So think long and hard about what you're doing.


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